


Never Enough

by artsyUnderstudy



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 8x19, After 8x19, Angst, Canon Compliant, Dean Winchester makes me sad, I'm Sorry, M/M, Season 8, Sexual Content, its not even very good porn, the porno
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-09
Updated: 2013-04-09
Packaged: 2017-12-07 22:57:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/754045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artsyUnderstudy/pseuds/artsyUnderstudy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Dean,” Castiel rasped, gripping the doorframe as he struggled to stay upright.  Dean bolted forward, eyes still dim and vision hazy with sleep, but that voice ripped through him like a knife, vibrant and painful.  He blinked away the fog and stared unmoving at the white light leaking through Cas’ bloodstained and shaking fingers.  “Dean, help.  Please.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never Enough

“Dean,” Castiel rasped, gripping the doorframe as he struggled to stay upright. Dean bolted forward, eyes still dim and vision hazy with sleep, but that voice ripped through him like a knife, vibrant and painful. He blinked away the fog and stared unmoving at the white light leaking through Cas’ bloodstained and shaking fingers. “Dean, help. Please.” 

The smell of copper and sweat rushed toward him and his nerves twisted in his gut. “Cas, shit.” He rose to his feet, his brain finally catching up with the scene around him. “SHIT.” Blood and wisps of grace seeped from between Cas’ teeth, his eyes an otherworldly blue as they stared straight back into Dean’s. Dean stumbled forward, arms out to catch Cas as he fell to his knees. 

“Angel blade, I can’t, it won’t heal” Cas breathed out painfully, eyebrows knitting together as his gaze lost focus. Dean grabbed Cas’ bloodstained hand and pulled it away from the gaping wound in his side, blood pulsing out slow and steady as the bright white of the angel’s grace burned at his eyes. Dean covered the wound with his own hand, pressing hard to keep it closed, tendrils of grace caught between the gaps of his fingers.

“Sammy,” Dean scraped out, voice thin with worry and fear and not nearly as loud as it needed to be. He took a breath and tried again. “Sam get out here now!” he screamed, his voice echoing in the empty hallway right outside his door. He heard a loud thump and knew his brother had woken up. He turned to face Cas, whose too bright eyes were beginning to roll back in his head. “Don’t you die on me you sunnofa bitch.”

“I’m sorry, Dean.” Cas said, voice too thick and too quiet to be a good sign.

“Save it, Cas. I don’t wanna hear it.” Dean spat, his fingers shaking against the angel’s side, already slick with blood. Dean didn’t even hear Sam run up behind him, and he jolted violently at the hand on his shoulder.

“Dean what the hell?” Sam breathed, taking in the scene.

“It’s bad, we need to close him up now.”

“Why can’t…?”

“Now, Sam!” Dean yelled too harshly. Sam didn’t say another word, instead he turned to run back down the hall to his own room where he kept his impromptu med supplies. He felt Cas’ hand moving to grip at his arm feebly. 

“Gunna patch you up, it’s gunna be fine.” Dean said, more to himself than the man in his arms. He shut his eyes and took a deep breath. “Who the hell did this?” Castiel didn’t respond other than to slump forward, his forehead resting on Dean’s shoulder as his hand fell back away onto the floor. Dean swallowed his fear. It felt like hands around his throat.

By the time Sam came back, Castiel was passed out and Dean’s hands were shaking so violently it was a wonder he could keep Cas upright at all. Sam silently helped him carry Cas to the bed, and together they stitched up the wound, only small shudders of white light silhouetting the black thread. Almost immediately after closing the wound, the skin began to slowly stitch itself back together. Dean breathed a sigh of relief that was almost a sob. Sam just gave him a look, like he understood, and then he left. Dean sat there for at least an hour in silence. Castiel’s eyes stayed tightly closed all the while, and Dean couldn’t force himself to shut his own. There were too many questions, and the fear of falling asleep just to find him gone again was too much.

“I can’t take this anymore, man” Dean said, barely a whisper. “I can’t take this coming and going, and not knowing. Might have been a time when I could shrug it off, but I can’t anymore.” He stared at Cas’ open palm, skin unscarred despite all his soldiering. His fingers twitched and he clasped his hands together, too afraid to reach out the way he wanted to. “I told you already, maybe you couldn’t hear me man, but I…” It was hard to spit it out, hard even when he knew he wouldn’t be heard. “God damn it, Cas.” He buried his face in his hands and let out a hard breath. He couldn’t make him stay.

“Benny’s gone, man. Couldn’t take things topside.” He felt like he was going to break just saying it out loud. “Wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it. I should have been there for him. I know you two weren’t the best of buddies or anything but…” Dean took a breath and his hands went rigid against his face. “He saved Sammy, Cas. And as repayment I…” His whole body shook when he felt a hand thread gently into his hair. He looked up, and Cas was staring at him, wide eyed and understanding, and sad.

“The weight of this world does not rest on your shoulders, Dean Winchester,” he said quietly, but firmly. Dean felt Cas’ thumb trace a small line up and down his temple. “It’s not your fault.” Dean let out a hard breath before falling forward into Cas as his hands gripped at the sleeves of his cheap white button up. He felt Cas stiffen against his him, but he didn’t pull away. “I can’t do anything for you, Dean. I can’t help Sam,” Cas said quietly.

“You idiot.” Dean choked out as he pulled away to look Cas in the eye.

“That isn’t why you called me here? Isn’t that always why you call me,” Cas asked, head tilting slightly, questioning. His eyes showing emotion Dean couldn’t understand. It might have been disappointment.

“I, yes but no… oh my god.” Cas squinted as he stared at Dean, and Dean couldn’t help the humorless laugh that came out of him. “You really don’t get it.” Dean didn’t have to move far to meet Cas’ lips, his shaking hands wrapped around the back of Cas’ neck as he melted into the kiss. When he pulled away Cas’ eyes were wide with shock and Dean recoiled so fast his head spun, pushing himself off the bed and half running toward the door before Cas could say a word. He didn’t make it halfway before he felt a hand on his wrist turning him back around, and before he could breathe a word of protest Cas had him slammed against the wall, his body pressed flushed with Dean’s and rutting against him with barely contained want. Dean shook as Cas leaned forward, breathing hard and fast and looking like he was going to devour him, but he did nothing but run a tentative thumb over the pulse of his wrist, big blue tired eyes searching Dean’s face in the dark room. 

“What do you need, Dean?” Cas asked him with complete sincerity, voice low and breathy.

“You,” Dean said, and he pulled himself free of Cas’ grip and clutched the collar of his shirt with both hands, tugging Cas into a hard kiss, and this time Cas responded in kind. Dean’s hands shook as he tugged at Cas’ shirt, wanting it gone but unable to work the buttons. His fingers shook as Cas traced his lips with his tongue and he parted his mouth to let him in, hot breath shared between them as they pressed harder against each other. Dean groaned in frustration as Cas began to move his hips against his own. Giving in, Dean yanked at Cas’ shirt, ripping it open all the way down to below his hips and moving his hands back up to his shoulders to begin to push it off his arms. His fingers lingered for a moment on the bare skin of his wrists as the shirt fell to the floor, and he could feel Cas’ heartbeat fast and shallow against his thumbs. “You okay?” Dean whispered, eyes shut tight as he touched his forehead against Cas’. Cas didn’t speak, but Dean felt the body pressed against his move closer, Cas’ fingers moving to twitch against his own.

“Yes.” Cas breathed, suddenly soft and pliable against him. Dean wrapped one arm around Cas’ waist and moved his other hand to cup his cheek and kissed him hard and deep, turning them both around so he could press Cas against the wall. He wanted to ask him not to leave again. Wanted to make him understand what it did to him, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t beg anymore. It would kill him to beg, open and raw, and be left standing there alone again. Instead he grasped Cas’ hands with a strength that would have hurt a normal person and crushed his body into him, feeling the burning desire in him pouring out in waves, and Cas moaned in response against his lips. He had tonight and god damn was he going to take advantage.

He pressed his hips flush to Cas’, the angel moving with small unsure jerks of his hips against his own arousal. He felt a jolt of pleasure and excitement course through him, and he gripped even harder at Cas’ hands, white knuckled and desperate. Dean let go only to move his shaking hands under Cas’ thighs, pressing them both hard against the wall as he bent to pick him up, and Cas’ legs wrapped around his waist in response. Cas put his arms around him, his fingers tangled in the soft cotton of his t-shirt, and Dean leaned back to allow him to remove it. Cas stared at his bare chest, eyes wide and cheeks flushed. He had no idea that angels could blush. He laughed and buried his face in Cas’ neck, kissing and biting him along the line of his jaw. Cas rutted against him headily, and the friction was causing Dean’s vision to go white around the edges and he moaned his pleasure. “Fuck, Cas.”

“That’s the idea.” Castiel gasped back, and Dean almost dropped him. Jesus Christ.

“Okay.” Dean said, a little too high pitched. “Alright.” Dean balanced himself, Cas clinging to him like lifeline. “I just need to get some -”

“Dean, I’m an angel” Cas said, voice deep and breathy and impatient. Dean stared at him for half a second before he understood why he had to be told this. Jesus goddamn fucking Christ. He kissed him hard then, and Cas opened his mouth, breath shallow and loud as it mixed with his own. A shiver ran through him as Cas pulled his hips away and started to unbutton his fly, and without hesitation Dean caught his hands and pulled them back around his body, moving to complete the task himself. He lowered Cas to stand on the floor and tugged the remaining clothes from his body, not caring to do the same for himself, his boxers the only thing between himself and Cas. Cas backed up against the wall as Dean brought his fingers up to touch Castiel’s lips. Without hesitation he sucked them in, tongue circling the digits and his slender hips thrusting against Dean’s thigh, and Dean couldn’t take it much longer. He moved the wet hand down to press into Cas, and the angel barely even whimpered at the harsh intrusion. His breathing went ragged as Dean worked into him, and Dean drove himself against Cas’ hip, needing the friction so badly it hurt. Cas wrapped his tense gripping fingers into Dean’s hair and whined when Dean pulled his hand away, but let it go when Dean gripped at his thighs and lifted him back up, boxers down between his legs and his member pressed hard and ready against Cas. 

Dean barely had the strength not to drive into him right then, but he took a moment to bring a hand up to run through Cas’ mussed up hair, and kiss him soft on the mouth. He tried to ignore the soft whine that pushed from the back of his throat, not knowing how much it would hurt to kiss him so gently.

“You good, man?” he asked, pulling is face away just far enough to speak, but still with foreheads pressed together, knowing it wasn’t the right question but needing it to be.

“I love you, Dean” Cas rasped out, and Dean whimpered as he drove into him, hard and fast and needing as Cas clutched at his back, moaning deep and unabashedly against his shoulder. Cas whined against him, clutching at his arms and hips and moving in time, shuddering when Dean hit just the right spot. Dean tried to slow down, to savor it, but he needed him so badly that it was a physical ache in his chest, and the sounds that were coming out of his angel were like being Saved. He would give anything to keep it. He spun his fingers into Cas’ soft dark hair, breathed in the scent of his skin and thrust again, hearing his name entwined in the broken syllables like a prayer, like worship. He drove into him harder when he knew he was close, no restraint as he gasped against him, clutching his hips hard as Cas clung to him. When he came he could barely stay upright, and Cas gripped him so tightly he thought he might break, but when they slid to the floor, panting and kissing and gripping at each other he knew he had never felt more whole. 

Dean curled into him then, right there in the floor, and let himself be loved completely in a way he never had been in his life. It was weak and foolish and it was only going to hurt all the worse when it was gone but he was beyond caring. What felt like hours later his breathing finally steadied and he felt himself move, felt the mattress beneath him, heard the flutter of wings, and he never wanted to feel anything again.

In the morning there was only one thing; a note on the desk, promising to come home soon.

It would never be enough.


End file.
